Just a quick note tonight …

A friend and colleague of mine, Stacey Cann, will be presenting a performance work Friday Night, November 21 at the Creative Practices Institute in Edmonton (10149 – 122 Street).

Stacey describes the performance thus:

Cleaning out the cellar of my father’s house in November a year ago I found hundreds of slides and eight millimeter projections. They had been passed down to my father from a family member long passed.

Using these slides and projections I create a new narrative, the true stories long lost. This performance is set up as a typical performance of this sort, around the kitchen table, listening to stories of vacations you didn’t go on. As a child wishing you were somewhere else. The home slide projector jams. The story interrupted, then continued once the slide is carefully removed from the bowels of the machine.

The confabulated story, some truth some fiction, brings new life to images that have been separated from a human source for too long. Lost and then found again, much like many family histories.

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As someone completely besotted with the changeable intricacies of both memory and narrative, I am really excited to give a shout out to this work, and the talent behind it. Check it out if you can!

One thought on “ Memories, not our own … ”

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